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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27303367">only a few love to be alone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokskar/pseuds/brokskar'>brokskar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Gilded Age, M/M, One Shot, but not too bad, descriptions of illness and death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:33:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27303367</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokskar/pseuds/brokskar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"'I-I mean yeah, come with me to Chicago. You said you don’t know where you’re going, right? Then come with me. I’m not sure exactly how we’ll get a place to sleep, but three heads are better than two, y’know? Definitely better than one. And rent will be easier.'”<br/>-<br/>January, 1893. Lukas didn’t know what to expect upon arrival in America, but it certainly wasn’t Mathias.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Denmark/Norway (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>only a few love to be alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Five years into Hetalia and I just now decided to start posting fic.</p><p>CW: there are descriptions of illness and death (not too terrible though!)</p><p>Title comes from a Jens Jensen quote: "Trees are much like human beings and enjoy each other's company. Only a few love to be alone."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>PART 1</p><p>1893</p><p>The air outside was freezing and bright snow was stuck to the small island. The sky was blanketed with clouds that were as grey as the ocean water, which splashed playfully at the harbor, jostling the few ferry boats around in their places. The wind wasn’t strong that day, but it exacerbated the cold nonetheless and made the January morning seem even  more miserable. It was a day no one wanted to spend outside.</p><p>The island had a building, of course. The Ellis Island Immigration Station situated right in the Upper New York Bay was the recent project that saw hundreds and even thousands of immigrants each day, to evaluate  whether or not they were good enough to live in the United States. And although the station was large, the amount of people crammed  inside, pushing against each other and running in all directions in search of a family member or friend made the temperature of the room rise. This new heat had Lukas wondering if the near-freezing air outside was really that bad at all.</p><p>Lukas sighed deeply, taking the flat cap off his head to smooth his hair out, then put it back on. His left arm was twinging with pain, weighed down by his single trunk that he refused to let go of, not wanting to risk anyone being desperate enough to take it. He shifted it to his right. This line is ridiculous, he thought to himself. </p><p>“This line is ridiculous.”</p><p>Lukas looked at Emil, his nineteen-year-old brother who had turned around from where he was standing in front of him in line. </p><p>Lukas scoffed. “I was just thinking that,” then a pause. “Could be worse though, right?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Emil replied. “There’s people who’re still waiting in the snow.”</p><p>He turned to face forward again and Lukas craned his neck to look out over the sea of people that  were flooding the station. He couldn’t even see where the doors were, there were so many people. But he assumed that Emil was right, and that dozens of poor souls were unfortunate enough to get stuck outside.</p><p>He was losing patience quickly. He had always been that way, but it’d gotten much worse over the last month. Spending weeks in steerage with his younger brother and a bunch of strangers he didn’t want to get to know had silently sent his blood boiling a plethora of times. The journey from Norway to America was horrible to say the least, being trapped in a stuffy lower deck with little light and lots of seasickness did no one any favors. Lukas grimaced at the thought.</p><p>It wasn’t his idea to leave Norway, nor was it Emil’s. In fact, Emil probably hated it even more than he did. Their family farm had been suffering for years, as most in the country were, and when Lukas, being twenty-two, left each morning to look for work and came home in the evening with nothing but tired eyes and a frown on his lips, his parents knew it was time for a different approach.</p><p>Thus, when his mother pulled out a secret wooden box filled with money—not much, but just enough to get the boys to a new country and hopefully a tenement—there was instant objection. Lukas yelled—he never yelled. Emil angrily shoved in his chair and went to bed without eating, declaring he wouldn’t go. But the next day, they were boarding the boat that would take them to their new home.</p><p>Now, standing in the world’s slowest line at Ellis Island, he regretted not kissing his mother goodbye, or at least thanking her for what she was doing. She was trying to help them, he knew, and the United States was becoming the hotspot for creating a business or working your way up the ladder to reap financial gain. Or at least that’s what everyone said. He wasn’t sure if he believed it yet.</p><p>Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the line moved just in the slightest. Lukas switched his trunk back to his left hand and took a few steps forward. Then the line came to halt yet again. Great, he thought, So much progress. However, his thoughts were  interrupted by a heavy weight pressing against his back as a stranger crashed into him. Luckily he didn’t lose his footing.</p><p>“Sorry!” The voice behind him cried. “I thought the line would move a bit more.”</p><p>Lukas adjusted his cap, as it’d gone crooked, and turned around to face the stranger. Who he found was a man who looked close to him in age, was a few inches taller, and had the most unkempt  blond hair he’d ever seen. He was holding his own cap in his hand, his suitcase in the other. His jacket looked small on him, as if it had been given to him during his teen years when he was still growing—Lukas’s own jacket was like that. Yet, despite the man’s rather raggedy appearance, his overall demeanor made him look adult-like. Almost like he could be trusted.</p><p>Lukas didn’t say anything for a moment, and he noticed the man about to speak again, probably to reiterate his apology. Lukas stopped him:</p><p>“It’s quite alright. No worries,” he said.</p><p>The man smiled, polite and inviting. “Great…I’m Mathias Køhler, from Denmark.” He quickly threw his hat on his head, folding down his hair, and stuck out his hand for a shake.</p><p>“Lukas Bondevik, from Norway,” he replied, letting his defenses down for a moment to shake Mathias’s hand. </p><p>“I thought so from the accent!” Mathias exclaimed excitedly, and Lukas blushed a little. “It’s nice to know someone from back home, ja?”</p><p>Although Lukas thought that Mathias’s comment saying they were from the same “home” when Denmark had ruled over Norway for more than four hundred years was a bit insensitive, he understood what he was trying to say, and so he let it go. They were both from Scandinavia, that’s all. At least they had something in common.</p><p>Lukas quickly turned around again to see if the line had moved any more—it hadn’t. Emil was still in front of him with his hands in his pockets and one leg perched up on his trunk that was sitting on the floor. He was trying to see the front of the line. In fact, he was so preoccupied he hadn’t even noticed Lukas was talking to anyone. Lukas turned back to Mathias as he spoke again.</p><p>“Where are you headin’? What’re you going to do here?” They were two questions Lukas had thought long and hard about on the journey across the sea, without ever finding an answer. He told Mathias as such.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he said. </p><p>“Well, I’m setting out for Chicago after all of this bullshit, y’know? I want to be a landscape designer, like Jens Jensen. He was from Denmark. I heard about his story back home and wanted to come here, too.”</p><p>Lukas stared at him for a second, a slight smile on his face, one of confusion and curiosity. “Do you…know any of his works?” He asked.</p><p>“Uh, no, no—not really,” Mathias responded, but his sparkling eyes never faltered. “I know he likes to design parks and gardens and stuff,” he concluded.</p><p>Lukas chuckled at the childish dream. “Good luck with that,” he told him, shaking his head in disbelief at the man who traveled thousands of miles to fulfill a wish he didn’t know anything about. Like this man’s entire life was made up of impulsive, delirious decisions.</p><p>But Mathias only smiled brighter, as if Lukas’s discouragement only encouraged him more. Lukas didn’t even know why he was talking to a stranger. That wasn’t normal behavior for him. Maybe it was on account of him being forced to a new country; new life, new him, perhaps? Or maybe it was because this particular stranger was just so…interesting. Lukas was convinced that he was the friendliest person he’d ever met, and he barely knew anything about him at all. With their short interaction, Mathias made it so easy to talk to him, and there was some secret feeling that Lukas couldn’t shake.</p><p>Lukas felt a nudge in his arm—Emil was trying to get his attention. The line was moving forward more, so Lukas filled the gap that had formed between him and Emil. The island must have put more workers on shift because the line was moving a bit quicker than before, with handfuls of people being evaluated at once.</p><p>Then, he heard Mathias’s voice behind him again. “That your brother?” He asked in an undertone, pointing over Lukas’s shoulder to where Emil was still oblivious to their conversation. He nodded. </p><p>“Yeah,” Lukas said. “Emil. He’s younger.”</p><p>“You two should come with me,” Mathias said after a moment. Lukas turned to him, face scrunched in confusion, like Mathias was speaking a different language. Mathias continued:</p><p>“I-I mean yeah, come with me to Chicago. You said you don’t know where you’re going, right? Then come with me. I’m not sure exactly how we’ll get a place to sleep, but three heads are better than two, y’know? Definitely better than one. And rent will be easier.”</p><p>In any typical circumstance, Lukas would’ve denied the offer immediately. He didn’t want hand-outs, he didn’t want shortcuts, he didn’t want help. Before leaving Norway, he swore to his father that he’d work his way up on his own, because that was the only way to do it. But he was actually considering Mathias’s proposal. Would that be breaking his promise to his father? He mulled it over in his mind. He’d still work his ass off to make it, and so would Emil…they would just have another friend, working his ass off, too. That wasn’t cheating, right? Of course not, he thought.</p><p>“Sure,” he said in the end. Mathias beamed, clearly hoping for affirmation. Their discussion didn’t go much further as the line had shrunk significantly since their arrival at the station. Finally, Emil was beckoned to one of the counters with a stern worker standing tiredly behind it. Lukas started to follow his brother, but was stopped with Mathias’s hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“You’ll have to wait for me once you get through,” he looked at Lukas. “You’ll wait for me?”</p><p>“Sure,” Lukas said again, and went to join his brother.</p><p>…</p><p>After the terribly languid process of identity inspection and physical examination, which Lukas found to be a complete invasion of privacy, they made it through, and were officially citizens of the United States. He and Emil were standing outside in the fallen snow, though the sun had managed to poke its way through some of the clouds. They had to wait some time for the ferry, but it was better than being trapped inside.</p><p>Emil turned to Lukas. “Hey, were you talking to someone in line earlier?” He inquired. Ah, so he had noticed after all, just chose not to get involved. </p><p>“Yes,” Lukas replied. Might as well break the news. “He’s from Denmark. He offered us to travel with him to Chicago, and I agreed.”</p><p>Emil’s eyes popped out of his head at the information and he looked at his brother in disbelief. </p><p>“You what?! Are you mad? We don’t even know him. What were you thinking?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Lukas admitted. “I didn’t know what we were gonna do when we got here. I have absolutely no idea what it’s like to live here. He offered, and he’s nice. I’m just doing what I can for us.”</p><p>His brother’s glare softened, and he actually exhaled through his nose, as if something was mildly amusing. “You want us to live with a Dane? The type of people who ruled us for four hundred stupid years or whatever?”</p><p>“Would you rather live with a Swede?” Lukas countered. That shut him up. A silence built up between them, but not a harsh one. Just a normal one.</p><p>Emil asked, “What’s his name?”</p><p>“Mathias.”</p><p>Emil nodded in understanding, and coincidentally, the doors to the station opened and out walked Mathias, flat cap, short jacket, and suitcase in possession. He noticed the two standing far away from the building near the harbor and crossed the white sidewalks to join them. As he approached, Lukas saw the smile on his face.</p><p>Ever so polite, the first thing Mathias did was set his case down to stick out his hand at Emil, who, to Lukas’ surprise, returned it with professional firmness. Introductions were made, and Emil was much nicer about living with a Dane than he was five minutes ago.</p><p>“They wanted me to change my name to Matthew,” Mathias was saying about his experience at the counter. “They said it sounded more ‘American’. Like I’m gonna listen to that garbage.”</p><p>After seemingly hours of small talk between the three of them, they boarded the ferry that would take them into New York City, a rising powerhouse in the world. From there, somehow make their way to Chicago, Illinois.</p><p> </p><p>PART 2</p><p>Chicago was the busiest place Lukas had ever seen, besides New York. Spending his entire life in the Norwegian countryside, he’d never seen a city before, and his eyes were glued to the sky with his head turned upward and mouth slightly agape, like a child in awe. Every building was several stories high, and the streets were packed with vendors and businessmen and hungry children. Chicago wasn’t snowy like Ellis Island was, but it was still cold. He could see his breath fill the air, but he paid no mind to the bitter  weather as he followed Mathias down the crowded street, Emil trailing behind him. They had to walk single file as the roads were too jammed with people and carriages for them to walk side by side.</p><p>Lukas didn’t know where they were going, and he didn’t know if Mathias knew either. In all honesty, he didn’t quite remember how they got there in the first place. He knew that they had walked for several miles, and then he had slept. Maybe a train, maybe a carriage, but one thing was certain: Mathias was probably broke by now.</p><p>He also remembered, before he fell asleep on some sort of transportation, a lot of talking. While they walked away from where the ferry had dropped them off in New York, they shared their pasts and interests and random stories they’d heard from strangers. Mathias did most of the talking. Lukas now knew that he had been born and raised on a farm as well, but he had also spent time at his relatives’ business, where they made clocks and watches, and other trinkets. He was the only child in his family, or rather, the only child that had survived into adulthood. He shared the sadness of having to assist his father in burying his little sister only four days after she was born, and then a year later his brother, aged three, who had fallen down a well and cracked his skull.</p><p>Lukas discovered that Mathias was an emotional man and found comfort in expressing how he felt, which was drastically  different from his and Emil’s reserved upbringing . He struggled to grasp how one person could be so optimistic despite all his hardships. He found himself entranced by Mathias’ stories, and by the time they arrived in Chicago he felt as if they’d been friends since childhood.</p><p>Another aspect of Mathias that Lukas couldn’t grasp was how easily he could talk to anyone and ask for help. After maneuvering through the busy streets for a while Mathias suddenly made a sharp right turn and headed straight for two men walking on the sidewalk. Lukas shared a puzzled look with Emil before fastening his pace to catch up with Mathias, who had stopped the pair.</p><p>“Excuse me,” he interjected, a little out of breath. “Do you speak English?”</p><p>The two nodded  their heads in affirmation. Mathias explained that the three of them had just arrived and were looking for a place to stay. He asked them if they knew any buildings with open apartments.</p><p>“Our tenement is still fairly empty,” one of the men spoke. He was on the shorter side, with messy blond hair and brown eyes that matched the streaks of dirt and dust on his face and clothes. “We’re heading back there now, if you’d like to join. We have food, too.”</p><p>“That’d be great, thank you,” Mathias replied and looked back at Lukas and Emil for their approval. Lukas nodded; it was getting colder,  darker, and he was really hungry. For a moment he thought of his father again, the mantra of not accepting handouts looming in his mind, but he pushed it away. With how populated the city was, he wasn’t sure how easy it’d be to get a job, or how well the job would pay, so he would take as many wins as he could.</p><p>“I’m Tino, by the way. Väinämöinen. From Finland,” the shorter man said, and stuck out his hand. </p><p>“I’m Mathias Køhler, and this is Lukas and Emil Bondevik.”</p><p>After they all shook hands with Tino, the other man stepped forward and offered his. “Berwald Oxenstierna,” he said. “From Sweden.” His voice was much lower than Tino’s, and he was much taller as well. Lukas noticed his calloused hands as he greeted him, and his overalls that were absolutely too short on him. He was probably a construction worker of some sort. He also adorned petit glasses on his nose.</p><p>Lukas felt Emil lean in close to whisper in his ear. “What was it you said earlier about living with a Swedish person? Did you curse us?” </p><p>Lukas only chuckled. “Let’s hope I didn’t,” he said jokingly. Then he started walking again, following the others.</p><p>“Tenement’s not far,” Berwald told them as they all huddled together down the street. “Just a few more blocks.”</p><p>…</p><p>It turned out that the tenement was not ‘fairly empty’, as Tino had claimed. However, the building was broken up into four apartments on each floor, and each apartment had two rooms. Tino insisted that Lukas, Mathias, and Emil take one of the rooms in their apartment. Him and Berwald didn’t need all the space, he said. Not that there was much to begin with. Upon entering the front room, Lukas noticed the two individual beds and the two trunks carrying various belongings and concluded that Berwald and Tino had never used the second room at all, which was at the back of the apartment. He found that the second room was much like the first, with the only real furniture being the two beds. </p><p>He had assumed that he and Emil would have to share a bed, which they had occasionally done as children on extremely chilly nights, or when Emil had some nightmare or another. He walked over to the bed and placed his trunk down near it, his brother doing the same. Mathias went to the other bed and flopped down on it, sighing in a dreamy, content tone.</p><p>“We sure got lucky, didn’t we?” Mathias said, with his arms folded behind his head as he lay against the thin mattress. No one answered him, so he kept talking. “I mean, gettin’ all the way out here, finding a place to live, and some new friends? We got really lucky.” He was smiling, as per usual. </p><p>Lukas looked across the room. Emil was looking out the small window on the far wall, and Mathias didn’t move from his position on the bed. He was just staring at the ceiling, but he never stopped smiling. His cap had fallen off his head to rest on the pillows, setting his hair loose and free. Lukas took in the sight and felt a sudden wave of emotion overcome him. He felt his chest begin to pound and his skin getting warmer, despite the tenement being just as cold as the outdoors. He didn’t really know what was going on, just that he felt drawn to Mathias and his general friendliness for strangers. He was drawn to his eagerness and his outgoing personality. And his smile.</p><p>“Don’t you think?” Mathias asked, breaking the silence.</p><p>“Hm?” Lukas’s thoughts were interrupted.</p><p>Mathias turned to face him. “That we’re lucky.” His smile was still present, and his eyes were looking right at him. Lukas felt distracted, almost dizzy.</p><p>“Yes,” he forced his mouth to speak. Yes, I am.</p><p> </p><p>PART 3</p><p>Finding work was much easier than Lukas expected. He had set out with Mathias early the next morning to look for a job. Emil had gone with Berwald to the construction site where he worked, which was nice—he’d always liked helping their father with building projects back home. And Tino had wandered off to his job at the sweatshop, where Lukas wasn’t exactly sure what he did. That left him and Mathias to search for work on their own, which they found rather quickly at the docks.</p><p>The hours were long and the pay wasn’t great; not even good, but Lukas knew he wouldn’t find something better. Mathias knew it too, as he got straight to work, waving Lukas over to help him carry a heavy crate that smelled of dead fish and sea salt.</p><p>That’s all they did, all day long. Load this ship, unload that ship. Haul these boxes over there. Don’t step on that part of the dock, the planks are coming loose. It wasn’t fun to stand out in the cold for ten hours a day, but the exertion made him sweat, and several times a day did he find himself wanting to take off his jacket. Lukas watched Mathias smile through it all, laughing off every insult from the port operator. Of course it wasn’t Mathias’s dream job—that, he expressed, was in landscape design. But apparently one couldn’t just become a landscape designer. “That’s okay with me!” He exclaimed. “I’ll just work my way up!” Lukas liked to believe his optimism.</p><p>At night, after everyone had made it home and had their share of suspicious-looking canned meat or mushy fruits from the vendor on the corner, they sat around in the main room of their apartment, where Berwald and Tino slept, and enjoyed each other’s company. They complained about their jobs and their bosses. Mathias drew in the little notebook he kept on the inside of his coat. Lukas saw the drawings he made of fields and parks and gardens, places he wanted to create at some point in his life. They were really adequate sketches at best, but Lukas was no artist, so he really couldn’t judge.</p><p>…</p><p>It’d barely been a month since they moved in when the fire happened. It wasn’t really a shock; fires happened relatively often in their neighborhood. The bells rang out through the night as the firemen rushed down the street, allowing no one any sleep for hours.</p><p>Lukas knew it was a fire as soon as he heard yelling on the floor above, and quickly headed for the fire escape, everyone else in hot pursuit. He nearly slipped climbing down the icy stairs, but Mathias caught his arm and helped him rebalance. </p><p>After they all clambered down onto the street, they waited for the firemen to arrive, shivering in the frost with only nightclothes and socks on, not even shoes. Lukas looked up at the building, where smoke and flames were bellowing out of a third story window. He figured it was probably caused by a candle that had been knocked over and spread throughout the apartment. It burned bright, almost too bright to look at, an exploding contrast against the black starless night. Lukas turned away from the tenement to face the others, who were trying to keep as warm as possible.</p><p>Once the fire had been put out--after several hours of lying in wait--they were told the building needed to be repaired and that its tenants had to find somewhere else to stay. Couldn’t even get their belongings to take with them.</p><p>“Now what?” Emil asked tiredly. It was very early in the morning.</p><p>“Lukas, do you know Alfred from the harbor?” Mathias looked at him.</p><p>Lukas thought for a moment. He didn’t know Alfred Jones, but he knew of him. He was a tall, boisterous fellow who worked on the docks with them. Lukas didn’t pay too much attention to him, but the three of them had gone drinking one night after their shift.</p><p>“Yes,” he responded eventually. Mathias started walking down the street, so he and the others followed. “Why?”</p><p>Mathias turned around, walking backwards. “I remember hearing that his brother owns a place we might be able to stay at.” </p><p>“But all our stuff is in the apartment,” Lukas countered.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tino added. “I don’t have any money on me.”</p><p>“That’s okay!” Mathias reassured. “Maybe he’ll be easy with us since we know his brother, kind of.” He was grinning at them. </p><p>Lukas was about to interject again, when Mathias, who was still walking backwards, slipped on an ice patch on the ground and ended up on the sidewalk, making the group laugh. Lukas shook his head before reaching his hand out and hauling him back to his feet, and he saw that Mathias was laughing, too. Mathias slung an arm around his shoulders and continued down the street as if nothing had even happened, the other three trailing behind.</p><p>“Come on, what do we got to lose?” Mathias said, still shaking off his laughter. He slightly tightened his grip on Lukas. “Besides, I know you’ll follow me wherever.”</p><p>Lukas blushed, and smiled into the night, and knew that Mathias was right.</p><p> </p><p>PART 4</p><p>Life eventually returned to normalcy. After a few weeks, the tenement had been fixed up and safe enough to move back into. Luckily their room hadn’t been affected and their belongings were all accounted for, although the whole building reeked of soot and smoke. They went on with their lives.</p><p>One day late in April, as Lukas was taking off his jacket after work, Tino walked through the door carrying the evening paper. He waved it in Mathias’s direction, who was standing on the other side of the room.</p><p>“You wanna see this?” He asked.</p><p>Mathias excitedly crossed the room and took the newspaper from Tino, reading from the front page: “World’s Columbian Exposition to Open May First.”</p><p>“Wasn’t put together by your guy,” Tino said almost apologetically. “Some guy named Olmstead, I think. Not Jensen. Thought you’d still wanna see it.”</p><p>Mathias still talked about Jens Jensen, although not as much as he did in the beginning of their stay in America, Lukas noted. He didn’t draw as much in his notebook either, often too tired from work. But when he did, he always asked Lukas for his opinion, to which Lukas would tell him it looked fine, he’s not an artist, he doesn’t know what art should look like.</p><p>“This is cool,” Mathias said, skimming the article. “We should go see this.”</p><p>And, well, wherever Mathias would go, Lukas would follow.</p><p>…</p><p>If Lukas was impressed with the sights of a city, words could not describe the utter amazement he felt at the World’s Columbian Exposition. He had never seen so much activity in one place before—hell, it seemed as if the entire populations of Chicago, New York City, and Philadelphia were crammed into Jackson Park, strolling along the water pool, or seeing the Ferris wheel in Midway Plaisance. He felt much like he did on his first day in the city, unable to focus his eyes on one thing in particular, everything so new and admirable.</p><p>May had come and gone, along with June, as work had consumed Lukas and he found himself constantly unavailable or simply too tired to trek to the fair. However, along with the July heat and humidity, came a breath of freedom in his life, and the opportunity had arisen to check out the event. </p><p>The festival was supposed to be open for months, so there was no rush to see everything in one day. Lukas spent his time with the other four, looking around at the architecture and artifacts from the forty-six countries that played a role in the fair. Together they saw the dance performance of Little Egypt and heard the ragtime music of Scott Joplin and his band.</p><p>Lukas focused a lot on not bumping into people, so much so that he wasn’t really paying attention to the attractions going on around him. He knew they were still in Jackson Park, somewhere near the water, he thought.</p><p>“Hey, Mathias,” he heard Emil’s voice, and looked over to see what conversation they were having. “Look over here.”</p><p>Emil had his arm extended and his finger pointing through a clearing in the crowd toward the water, where a display of a Viking longship could be seen. Lukas barely had time to react as Mathias gasped and made a beeline straight for the replica floating on the water. He walked over to the shoreline with Berwald and Tino, watching Mathias and Emil hurry in front of them like children. Up close, the ship replica looked legit; a model of the Gokstad, sent from Norway. It was beautiful, with its carved dragon head, painted shields on the sides, and long wooden oars. He was glad to see some representation, but the reminder of his home country sent a frown to his face.</p><p>Mathias looked over at him, about to ramble excitedly about the display, but stopped himself when he saw Lukas’s demeanor.</p><p>“Do you miss home?” He asked instead, and Lukas nodded.</p><p>“I miss my mother,” he replied. He missed his father, too, but not as much. He assumed his father would condemn him for not building a successful life in the States, for accepting help from strangers, for attending a world fair instead of picking up extra work.</p><p>For falling in love with a man.</p><p>Lukas had tried to convince himself otherwise, but it was no use. There was no part about living in America that brought him joy unless Mathias was involved with it. He didn’t go to work for money, he went to spend time with Mathias. He didn’t go drinking afterwards to get drunk, he went to talk with Mathias. Nearly every decision he made depended on whatever Mathias wanted to do. And Lukas found that he didn’t particularly care anymore.</p><p>“I miss my parents, too,” Mathias said, breathing out a sigh. All was quiet between them, besides the noise of the festival. After a moment, Mathias spoke again:</p><p>“I’m glad to be here, though. I’m glad we got to meet each other.”</p><p>Lukas subtly looked around at his surroundings, thinking about his next actions. A crowd had gathered around the Viking boat, but it seemed as if all the attention was on the replica. No eyes met his when he scanned them around the crowd. He noticed Emil speaking with Berwald and Tino a few meters away, all oblivious to him and Mathias. Taking a deep breath, and praying that he wouldn’t be struck down by whatever forces of the world, he threw caution to the wind and slowly moved his arm, capturing Mathias’s hand in his own. </p><p>He kept his gaze away from Mathias’s, not wanting to appear suspicious and also not wanting Mathias to see his red face. He didn’t know if Mathias was looking at him or not, but he was hoping he was at least smiling.</p><p>Lukas was certain he had made a daring move. First of all, they were in public, and the longer they stood there holding hands, the better chance they had at being called out and humiliated in front of an audience. Secondly, he wasn’t even sure if Mathias cared for him like that—he shouldn’t go grabbing for people, hoping for the best; his mother taught him better than that. But his worries were washed away when he was met with Mathias squeezing his hand affectionately in return.</p><p> </p><p>PART 5</p><p>When August hit, things took a turn for the worse. It seemed like nothing, so they paid no mind when Berwald came home from work coughing and fatigued. It was only when coughing turned into spitting blood and fatigue turned into fever did they start to worry. Especially Tino. They sent for a doctor at once, not knowing—or caring—how much it would cost. </p><p>It wasn’t worth it; the doctor happened to be a sleaze—he half-heartedly diagnosed Berwald with consumption, probably picked up from the spittle in the streets, took his payment, and left. He suggested no treatment other than bedrest, which was difficult to do when Berwald could hardly breathe. </p><p>They couldn’t afford another doctor. With Berwald out of work, and Tino losing hours to take care of him, it was becoming hard to even feed the five of them, let alone afford anything extra. In the evenings, Lukas watched as Berwald’s fever worsened, his skin got whiter, and his weight dropped. Tino never left his side, worried lines indented on his forehead and his mouth tightened in a constant frown.</p><p>Lukas was always interested in Tino’s and Berwald’s relationship. He tried not to pry or eavesdrop, but he occasionally snatched pieces of conversation, of loving words said in undertones. He noticed the way Berwald would smile domestically whenever Tino told a work story or a humorous quip. And he had figured out on the first day of meeting them that they often shared the same bed, so he knew that they were close. He knew that they were like him.</p><p>It hurt him to see Tino fret over the man he loved. Lukas never wanted to be put in that position. He did his best to stay out of the way, to step in when needed, and to carry on as if all was okay. </p><p>And when Berwald died, the tenement was silent, except for Tino’s quiet sobbing. He was bent over in a wooden chair next to the bed, one hand clasping Berwald’s calloused one, and the other covering his face as he wept in agony. Lukas was standing against the wall on the other side of the room with Emil and Mathias, unsure of what to do. It was nearing midnight—they couldn’t do anything about the body. It’d have to wait until morning. He watched as Emil, teary-eyed, slowly walked over to Tino and offered his condolences. He then promptly retreated into the bedroom he shared with Lukas and Mathias. Mathias then did the same. Lukas followed suit, placing a hand on Tino’s shoulder for a moment, then leaving him to mourn in peace. </p><p>When Lukas entered the other room, he saw that Emil had wrapped himself in the thin cover of their shared bed and left no room for Lukas. He couldn’t be mad though; he knew Emil had grown close to Berwald over the time that they’d been here. Emil had worked with him and treated him as a second brother. There was no doubt that Emil was distraught at Berwald’s death, and Lukas didn’t have the energy to fight him on the bed-hogging.</p><p>“Hey,” Mathias said softly from where he was laying in his own bed. He gently patted the mattress a few times as an invitation. In any only scenario Lukas’s face would probably heat up and his heart would beat faster, but in the moment he felt nothing but grief and wanted nothing but comfort. He crossed the room and silently crawled alongside Mathias. The beds in the apartment were not very big, it was difficult for two tall men to fit beside each other. Lukas turned on his side, away from Mathias, and willed himself to fall asleep. It wasn’t easy, for he could still hear Tino faintly through the wall. He wanted to cry, too, but he wouldn’t let himself—he needed to keep his composure. It was then that wordlessly, Mathias turned and reached his arm around Lukas’s midsection and pulled him closer to him, resting his forehead against the back of Lukas’s neck. Lukas didn’t fight it; rather, he relaxed into Mathias’s embrace, allowing his eyes to shut, and sleep to take over.</p><p>They remained in that position until morning, which Lukas found strange since on more than one occasion he had been awoken in the middle of the night by sounds of Mathias’s fidgeting and moving around in his sleep. He stayed still until he felt Mathias stir and stretch, and from there he clambered out of bed and slumped to the front room to check on Tino. He saw that Berwald was still in the same spot as last night, as he knew he’d be, eyes shut and skin cold. But Tino was gone.</p><p>…</p><p>They waited for a while. They waited all day, actually, for Tino to return, but he didn’t. They had moved Berwald; it was becoming too disturbing to have a corpse in their living space, so they buried him in the small yard behind the building that had turned into a cemetery over the past few months, several tenants having died from the number of diseases that plagued the streets. Consumption was fairly common, and Lukas would be lying if he said he was surprised that one of them had eventually gotten sick. </p><p>When Tino didn’t come back to the apartment the day after Berwald died, Lukas began to worry. Tino’s trunk was still in its place underneath the bed, so he hadn’t planned on leaving them. Had he?</p><p>The next day Lukas and Emil went to work, but Mathias set out on a search for Tino, telling Lukas to make up an excuse if the boss asked where he was. Lukas complied, and dragged himself to the harbor, worried lines on his forehead as he hauled materials back and forth. He almost ran home, needing to know if Mathias found Tino. When he hurriedly opened the door and saw Mathias and Emil sitting in the front room, the former with his head in his hands, he deflated.</p><p>Lukas met his brother’s eyes first. He shook his head, disappointed.</p><p>“No?” Lukas asked quietly. Mathias inhaled, let out a shaky breath, and looked up at him.</p><p>“I went by his work,” he said, softer than he had ever spoken before. “Said he hasn’t shown up in a few days.”</p><p>“You don’t think he…” he trailed off.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Mathias answered, a little too quickly. But Lukas had a gut feeling. And he didn’t like it.</p><p>“What now?” Emil asked, looking at the floor. </p><p>Mathias spoke. “I don’t know how we can afford this place anymore. It’s not as cheap as it used to be.” It was the truth; over the course of their stay, their rent had only risen, and it had become increasingly difficult for the five of them to pay on time. Now with only three of them, Lukas thought, there was no chance.</p><p>“I think I know somewhere we can go,” Mathias continued. Lukas watched him curiously, waiting for him to go on. “Galveston, Texas.”</p><p>Emil looked over at him ludicrously, about to interject with some criticism, but Lukas beat him to it. “Texas?! How the hell are we supposed to get there?”</p><p>Mathias shrugged. “Walk,” a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. “I mean, we made it here, didn’t we?”</p><p>Lukas just looked at him, a bit hopeless, mulling over the possibility. His silence only encouraged Mathias to talk more.</p><p>“I heard someone near the docks mention it. Sure, it’s far, but it’ll be a new start for us. And,” he was looking right at Lukas. “It’s a place that’s a lot more nice.”</p><p>Lukas understood immediately. He noticed the looks he received if he stood too close to Mathias on the street, or in the bar, or at work. He knew of a few people who were beginning to get suspicious of him, and he desperately wanted to pull himself out of the limelight. Neither he or Mathias had said anything to each other about their relationship, but he was certain that their feelings were made clear. They kept sharing Mathias’s bed since Berwald’s death, which made Lukas nervous of Emil’s judgement at first, but Emil hadn’t so much as bat an eye. </p><p>He knew that a place that was more nice meant a place that was more accepting. And frankly, after spending most of the year in the crowded and sickly city of Chicago, he found himself very much willing to leave.</p><p>“I don’t wanna be here anymore,” he heard Mathias say. “I wanna start fresh, somewhere new.” His eyes were pleading, and Lukas couldn’t turn him down.</p><p>“If you’re sure,” he said, looking at Mathias, then at Emil. “Then let’s go.” He would follow him anywhere.</p><p> </p><p>PART 6</p><p>Lukas finished his drink and set it down on the table, feeling buzzed. He leaned back in his chair and looked across the table where Mathias was prattling on about something or another, his eyes moving around the room as fast as his hands that could not stay still. Lukas wasn’t really listening. There was too much noise in the bar; men ordering refills of drinks, glass bottles clinking together, the incessant chatter of the patrons. Too much going on at once. Lukas yawned—alcohol made him tired, plus, it was getting late.</p><p>Mathias seemed to notice his fatigue. “Do you wanna head home?” He asked. Lukas nodded and stood, Mathias following suit and grabbing on to Lukas’s shoulder for balance. They headed out into the night.</p><p>Lukas admitted that Galveston was indeed much nicer than Chicago. The weather was warmer year-round, there was a pleasant beach, and he even earned a little bit more working the same job as he had before. But, more importantly, was the scene of the city that had encouraged him to come.</p><p>When Mathias had said that Galveston was nicer, Lukas knew he hadn’t been talking about the weather or the beach, but rather the fact that there were half a dozen bars on one street that were solely occupied by men such as him and Mathias. Men who liked to stand near each other and talk and laugh the way any enamored couple would. He noticed the sailors down at the docks who seemed very close with one another, and had no fear of being seen or caught. </p><p>Having only been in Texas for a short time, he quickly decided that it was better than life in Illinois. Leaving had been difficult at first, not wanting to abandon their first home or memories of Berwald and Tino. They had hauled their belongings down south, including the suitcases their friends had left behind. Lukas had felt guilty about taking the bit of extra money from Tino’s trunk and sticking the coins in his pocket, but Mathias had assured him that the money wouldn’t be spent otherwise, and that they needed it to make their journey. </p><p>The new apartment was a few blocks away from the bar, and as they made their way back Lukas slipped his hand into Mathias’s. It was dark out, well past midnight, and nearly no activity on the street, despite Galveston being a pretty large city. He didn’t feel nervous like he did back at the fair in July, for one: there was no potential audience, and two: him and Mathias were much more comfortable with each other now. There was still reason for caution, of course—not everyone can be a decent human being and accept people for who they are—but they received far fewer side-eyed glances than they had in Chicago.</p><p>Getting closer to the building, Lukas saw a small light in the bottom floor window where they lived. Emil must have left a candle burning, he thought. He imagined his brother still awake, despite the time and prospect of work in the morning, waiting for him and Mathias to walk through the door. He had noticed Emil acting more nervous whenever they wanted to leave the apartment for a while, still shaken by the incidents that had taken place in Chicago, and silently fearing one of them would succumb to some fateful illness, like Berwald, or run off with no plans of returning, like Tino. Emil always masked his nerves, but Lukas knew him better than that.</p><p>Lukas stepped into the room first, still hand in hand with Mathias. Like he assumed, Emil was sitting in a wooden chair next to the table, which was propped up against the windowsill. In the center of the table was a lonely candlestick that was almost gone, its flame beginning to flicker away. Emil looked up at Lukas.</p><p>“Have fun?” He asked, his voice low and filled with exhaustion from staying awake most of the night.</p><p>Lukas didn’t answer him. Mathias broke away and lightly stumbled across the floor into the bedroom, presumably to lay down, leaving the two brothers alone. Lukas looked hard at Emil, and even in the dark he could see that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he had a piece of cloth wrapped around his bicep. </p><p>“What happened to your arm,” Lukas said. It was more of a demand than a question .</p><p>Emil looked down at his makeshift bandage and shrugged. “Eh, nothing,” he replied. Lukas wasn’t convinced. He walked over to the table and grabbed his brother’s wrist, bringing his arm closer to the dwindling candle light. The white cloth was a deep red color in the spot where the injury was, but it looked to be dried, as if it happened several hours before.</p><p>“Tell me,” Lukas commanded. Emil sighed.</p><p>“It’s not that bad. Earlier I went out to the store to get a few things that Mat wanted, and on the way back there were some people standing in the way. They weren’t very nice, they shoved me into a wall when I tried to get past them. It must’ve been some old nail or something sticking out of the wall, ‘cause it got me good…” He lightly rubbed over the bandage.</p><p>“Does it hurt?” Lukas asked, reaching out to examine it, but Emil pulled his arm away.</p><p>“Yes, but I’m fine. I managed.”</p><p>“Did you clean it? Put some water on it, at least?”</p><p>“Yes,” he said again, although he drew out his response hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure what the right answer was. </p><p>Lukas felt a hint of uneasiness. He knew Emil was an adult and could handle himself, but he often thought back to the day they left Norway, his mother telling him to keep an eye on his younger brother. Lukas remembered Emil rolling his eyes from his place at the breakfast table, assuring everyone within a ten kilometer radius that he didn’t need Lukas to babysit him. Lukas had laughed and told his mother that, besides his childish outbursts, he thought Emil would be fine whether he was there or not, but he still promised her anyway.</p><p>And while he did still believe that Emil could live perfectly fine without him, Lukas still worried. He tried not to show his worry as much as Emil tried not to show his own worry about death and disappearing, but he figured that Emil could see through him the same way he could see through Emil. </p><p>“You should change the cloth,” Lukas suggested. </p><p>“I’ll be fine,” Emil assured. </p><p>“I hope so,” was the reply. Lukas was skeptical. “Don’t want it to get infected.”</p><p>The candle light burnt out.</p><p> </p><p>PART 7</p><p>Lukas woke up the following morning next to Mathias, as usual. He had a headache from the night before, and the prospect of stepping out of bed made the tiny room spin. He shut his eyes in an attempt to subdue the pressure behind them, and felt Mathias move beside him. He shifted his position, resting his head on Lukas’s shoulder. Still half asleep, he spoke:</p><p>“Is everything alright with Em?”</p><p>Lukas opened his eyes once more, his hazy memories of last night’s conversation with his brother slowly drifting back into his mind. He remembered that Mathias had left them alone at the table, probably not wanting to overhear anything that he shouldn’t, and by the time Lukas had entered the bedroom later on, Mathias had been fast asleep and had no idea what their talk was about.</p><p>“He has an injury on his arm,” he told him. “Guess it was a hole in his arm or something. He covered it up, though.”</p><p>Lukas assumed Mathias was asleep again, because he didn’t say anything. He wished he would; he didn’t want to think about Emil being hurt anymore than he already had. He sighed to himself and moved his hand hiding underneath the thin bed cover to find Mathias’, and was slightly surprised when Mathias responded to the action. Mathias brought them out from under the blanket and opened his eyes, examining their hands clasped together. Lukas watched as Mathias guided his hand closer and kissed the back of it, and for some reason Lukas felt like he could cry. </p><p>“I love you,” Mathias said affectionately. “I don’t know if I ever told you that, but I do love you.” A pause. “And I hope Emil’s okay. He’s strong.”</p><p>Lukas listened to his words carefully, like he’d never heard someone spoke before. He knew he loved Mathias. He knew since the first day they arrived in Chicago. And he knew that Mathias reciprocated his feelings. He never thought that those three words would matter, or make a difference, but hearing them after almost a full year of knowing Mathias caused his heart to swell. He unfolded his hand from Mathias’s and turned on his side so he could look at him face to face. He brushed strands of Mathias’s hair from his face—it needed to be cut again, but last time Tino had done it, and, well… Lukas erased that thought. Instead, he cupped his jaw in his hands, causing Mathias to smile against them. </p><p>“I love you, too.”</p><p>Outside the bedroom Lukas heard footsteps walking around and presumed that Emil had gotten up. He supposed that he should get ready for work as well. He moved away from Mathias, receiving some protest as he did so, and made his way out to the other room, which acted as a living space as well as Emil’s bedroom, with a cot set up on the opposite wall of the table and chairs. </p><p>When he came into the room he was met with Emil standing in the middle of the room. He had taken off the bandage on his arm and was looking at the wound. Lukas noticed the lines of worry on his forehead.</p><p>“Do you see this?” Emil asked, not bothering to look away from his arm. Lukas stepped towards him to get a better look. The puncture wasn’t bleeding anymore, but a red line appeared a few centimeters away.</p><p>Emil traced the line with his finger, confused. “That wasn’t there yesterday. I don’t understand.”</p><p>“I don’t either,” Lukas responded. He thought their father might know about different injuries and markings, but he couldn’t conjure up any lessons or advice he had received as a child. </p><p>“Just take it easy today,” he warned Emil. “Maybe it’ll go away on its own.”</p><p>He wasn’t confident in his words, and from the look on his brother’s face, he knew he wasn’t either.</p><p>…</p><p>Emil’s situation did not improve. A few days after the red mark appeared Lukas was abruptly woken by a loud thud from the other room, where Emil slept. He stumbled from the bed and out of the bedroom, Mathias right behind him, having also heard the noise. It was the middle of the night and he had to reach for the wall to guide himself through the dark.</p><p>“Where are you?” he asked into the black room, listening for his brother’s response. He heard a grunt, sounding somewhat panicked; it sounded like Emil was on the floor. Lukas crossed the room as best he could in the dark while Mathias felt around for a candle to light. Once he found one and lit it, he carried it over to where Lukas was now crouched down on the floor next to Emil. </p><p>Lukas looked at his brother horrified. Emil’s face looked red and hot, sweat droplets kept his blond hair matted to his forehead. There were tears in his eyes and on his cheeks. Most notably, Lukas noticed his hand clutching at his jaw, which seemed to be shut tight. He didn’t speak, or cry out—the only noise he made were painful moans at the back of his throat and heavy breathing through his nose. It was like he couldn’t move his mouth at all. </p><p>Lukas felt Emil’s forehead and brought it away fast. “His temperature is too high,” he said. He didn’t know if he was talking to Mathias or himself. He watched as Emil tried and failed to pry his mouth open to breathe more easily. Lukas began to really panic. Was this all because of his arm wound?</p><p>“We need a doctor!” He shouted at Mathias, who immediately sprung to his feet and made his way to the door.</p><p>“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he rushed, closing the door behind him, no shoes or coat on. Then he was gone into the night, leaving Lukas with Emil on the apartment floor.</p><p>He stayed with Emil and tried to coerce him to calm down, to breathe slower, anything to preserve his strength until the doctor arrived. But his words seemed only to distress his brother more, and so he continued to heave and struggle for several minutes, until he stopped, going limp in Lukas’s grasp and falling completely still.</p><p>When Mathias returned with a doctor an hour later, Lukas had no strength left of his own. He was staring at the ceiling when they came in, having fallen over on the floor, the weight of grief too heavy for him to remain in an upward position. His hand held onto Emil’s limp one. He wasn’t crying—not anymore, anyway. His eyes burned and his throat was dry and his heart ached. He made no compunction to move from the floor when Mathias came back. He just laid there next to Emil’s dead form, hoping that maybe if he remained still enough, he could join him.</p><p>…</p><p>Lukas sat at the table a week after Emil had been laid to rest at the cemetery. He sat in the same chair that Emil had when he waited for Lukas and Mathias to come home on late nights, only instead of looking out the window, he kept staring at the spot across the room, where Emil’s makeshift bed was, where he fell to the ground unable to breathe. It haunted him. He didn’t want to live in the apartment anymore. They had moved when Berwald died, so why were they still here now that Emil was gone?</p><p>The front door opened, but Lukas didn’t react. Mathias stepped into the place and closed the door behind him, home from work. One of the things Lukas could not bring himself to do anymore.</p><p>“You’re not in bed,” Mathias noted. Lukas pretended not to hear him.</p><p>“How do you do it?” He asked, still unable to focus his attention anywhere else besides the corner of the room. He could’ve phrased the question better, he supposed. What he meant was How do you get past the pain? How do you move on with life? He hoped Mathias understood.</p><p>Mathias frowned—Lukas saw it out of the corner of his eye—and sat down in the other chair opposite of him. When Mathias reached across the table and grabbed his hand, he finally looked away from Emil’s part of the room and looked him in the eyes. To his surprise, they were glossed over, unshed tears preparing to fall.</p><p>“It’s not easy,” Mathias started in the most gentle tone Lukas had ever heard him speak with. “I don’t think it’s something that really ever goes away. It simply…becomes part of your life.”</p><p>Lukas remembered Mathias telling him about his younger sister and brother who had both died, and he couldn’t understand how he could still be standing after experiencing such tragedies, plus the deaths of two close friends.</p><p>Mathias seemed to read his thoughts. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of them. And there won’t be a day that you don’t think of Emil. But he can still live on in your memories, right? In our memories?”</p><p>Lukas nodded. All was quiet. Mathias sighed.</p><p>“Crazy what less than a year in America can do.”</p><p>Lukas looked down at the table where their hands were connected. He reflected on the past year’s experiences, and how it was not at all what he expected. Back home in Norway, people said the streets in America were paved with gold, and that anyone could turn from rags to riches. He never truly believed it, but it would’ve been nice. Instead, he has had to deal with crowded tenements with dirt and disease. He reflected on the first day he arrived with his brother at Ellis Island. He had been knocked into by a complete stranger who then convinced him to join him in Chicago, because he wanted to be the next Jens Jensen. He looked at Mathias again.</p><p>“I’m sorry your landscaping dream hasn’t worked out yet,” he said.</p><p>“I gave up on that dream a long time ago.”</p><p>Although it was shocking to hear the most positive man on earth admit that he’d given up on something, it made sense. Lukas hadn’t seen him draw in his sketchbook in months, or even talk about becoming a landscape designer in general. In the first few months of their stay, Mathias had rambled on and on about his desires; but, lately, he hadn’t mentioned them once.</p><p>“It wasn’t realistic,” Mathias went on. “I shouldn’t have been so stupid to think I could actually make it.” </p><p>Lukas wanted to interject, but Mathias didn’t let him:</p><p>“I had to find a new purpose.”</p><p>“Which is?”</p><p>“You.”</p><p>With that, what little composure remained within him was gone. Lukas bent over the table and buried his face in his free hand, and wept. He realized, in that moment, despite every hardship he had faced—the financial struggles, the work troubles, the loss of loved ones—that life was infinitely better with Mathias in it. Mathias had shown  him he cared, and had even replaced his life goal for a life with him. </p><p>When the tears had stopped, he found his voice: “I love you,” he told Mathias, from the bottom of his heart.</p><p>“I love you, too,” was the reply, followed by a pause.</p><p>“What do we do now?” Lukas asked.</p><p>“What do you want to do now?” </p><p>Lukas thought for a moment, and his eyes traitorously shifted over to Emil’s corner of the room again, and he couldn’t stand it. There was no way he could ever recover if his apartment was constantly reminding him of what happened. </p><p>“I think…I think that I don’t want to live here anymore,” he finally said, tearing his eyes away and back to the man across from him. Mathias raised his eyebrows in curiosity. Lukas took that as a cue to keep talking.</p><p>“We don’t have to leave Texas. I would hate to leave Emil here, but I don’t want to stay right here anymore. It’s too painful right now, and I don’t think it’ll be any less painful if I have to see this every day.” He motioned at the side of the room. </p><p>“Okay,” Mathias said to him, a hint of his old smile appearing on his face. </p><p>“Okay?” Lukas echoed. </p><p>“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I’ll follow you.”</p><p>And Lukas smiled.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Appreciative to my friend who helped edit :)</p><p>I'll be posting updates of future works on my Tumblr: brokskar</p><p>Thanks!<br/>-Brok</p></blockquote></div></div>
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